


destroy the middle

by Gildedstorm



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Gen, this is honestly just a lot of snapshots strung together, what's consistency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4514394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gildedstorm/pseuds/Gildedstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becoming a king vessel changes you, surely. The king vessels of the Kou Empire and their magi, and the first steps to power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. astaroth

It only takes Kouen a few hours to decide that he is ready, and the Magi arrives in the night, flanked by a retainer. It isn't the first time he's seen the Kou Empire's miraculous asset, but until now he had glimpsed him at best, in brief days before he advanced to the next battlefield.

There are always battles to be fought. He's already tired of that, but his feelings mean nothing when balanced against the future of the Empire. Besides, this will only make things easier, give them more of an advantage. So he studies Judar closely, this boy who is less than half his age and somehow possesses the power to shake the world. He looks half-asleep and small, and he's briefly reminded of Koumei as a child. He shakes off the comparison, because their attendants had not watched him or his brother with the steady gazes of vultures, not like this one does, though she hides her mouth behind a hand and performs the proper obeisances as smoothly as any courtier.

“Do you remember what to do, Lord Magi?” the retainer asks, bending over. Judar looks like he's drowning in his ceremonial robes, but he nods and points at the ground, and Kouen can feel the power humming in the air as he braces himself. The ground buckles, parts sinking into a chasm – too smooth and cleanly cut – and others rising and rising and rising, forming a many-tiered tower lit from within.

It's an impressive sight, but Kouen schools himself to stony composure. The Magi doesn't react either, and there is something terribly empty in his eyes. “This one is Astaroth,” he says, face and tone blank, and his retainer beams her approval. Her eyes, Kouen notes, do not change either – still greedy. Still patient. “A fire djinn.” Just what is she waiting for, if not this?

He might not voice the thought, but it seems to him that the danger doesn't lie in the dungeon before him, and whatever traps Astaroth had laid. Rather, it is the people following him who are truly dangerous.

At least he now has a clear look at the kind of monsters he will have to use, to unify the world – even if one of them is a yawning, bleary-eyed child.


	2. dantalion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took both more and less time than I expected tbh
> 
> I had most of this scene already written and then like the last third happened in the last three hours so??? okay???
> 
> I love koumei a lot whoops

“ _What are you doing.”_

That sounds like Kouen, dangerously close to his head. Koumei blinks up at him and considers rolling over, and pretending to still be asleep. It would be nice if he could, of course, but they are both older now, and Kouen could likely throw him and his bed both out of a window. “Mmmprgh,” he says instead, and scrapes a hand through his hair so he can actually see. This attempt at lucidity doesn't impress his brother, which is understandable. He _feels_ unimpressive, and still tired to the bone.

Well, he's already undignified. Things couldn't really get worse.

“My brother and king... I'm sick,” he rasps, and coughs on Kouen for good measure. As coughs go, it's a good one. He's become very skilled at this, much to everyone else's dismay. “Terribly contagious.” His brother, showing concern in his usual fashion, hauls him up bodily and drags him out of his room, snapping orders for servants and stoically ignoring Koumei's attempt to fall back asleep on his shoulder.

“What will you do when you're actually sick and no one believes you?”

“Die, probably,” he answers wearily. “...Besides, you can always tell when I'm lying.”

“Hmph. Then why bother?”

“In case you'll be merciful.”

They're on their way to the dungeon only a half hour later, by some miracle, and Kouen glowers until the priests agree to just let him, Judar and his brother go in. He's quite sure that it's not so much for protection as to ensure he doesn't simply fall asleep and end up in a pit, or something. Not that there seem to be pits, but rather misdirections – shimmering mirrors and dead ends, a slowly expanding maze that throngs with monsters the moment they find another wrong path. Reluctantly, Koumei manages to stay awake the whole time, but apart from that it isn't entirely troublesome – at least, not until they reach the top.

“O Great Magi,” the djinn intones, while Koumei leans against a pillar and does his best to look like he's paying attention. “I am Dantalion –” And then she stops, expression twisting, and Koumei can't help but notice the way Judar stiffens under her scrutiny, straightening from his habitual slouch and hands curling into fists. He's certain that if he could see the rukh, it would be a dangerous swarm right now, all centred on their suspiciously helpful Magi.

“Is something wrong?” That's Kouen, icily impatient and likely envisioning having to go through this again because of some technicality.

“...No,” she says at last, and finally looks them both over, identifying Kouen's metal vessels immediately. There's a flicker of recognition, quickly masked – she's being cautious, for some reason. Was she expecting a different Magi, then? It's definitely Judar that's put her on edge. So the djinn can sense someone corrupted by Al Thamen... well, that's to be expected. But it's troublesome, too.

“Well then, hurry it up! That guy's the king vessel,” Judar says, rudely gesturing at him. He sighs and meets her gaze – smooth and unruffled, but guarded all the same.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Ren Koumei, second Imperial Prince of the Kou Empire.”

“Well, you're polite, at least...” Despite her words, she sounds dubious, and he clamps his jaw before he can yawn. No need to make an even worse impression on her, especially when he can feel Kouen's gaze like an edge at his back.

Not for the first time, he regrets getting up at all today.

Dantalion folds her arms, looking down at him, and he's momentarily grateful that Judar, at least, is sulking off to the side. He could do without being stared at by everyone else in the room.“Tell me, would-be king. Why do you wish for my strength?”

There are stars in her hair, as if she laid out the strands like a net and draped it across the sky. They glitter and disappear, forming new constellations in front of him – temptingly incandescent. Ah, he thinks, it's _this_ – this is the power that his older brother covets in silence as he pores over an old tome, that the veiled priests hand out like a poisoned gift. It might well swallow him whole. But then, it might do the same to Kouen still, who speaks of a third dungeon and pursues power like a comet, blazing and single-minded. It's better, this way – they will be together, anchoring each other. And after them, inevitably, will be their other siblings. Perhaps together, they'll all keep their sanity.

Weariness washes through him. The world is vast and fractured, and the task of binding all the pieces together seems far too great, even for all of them. But there are choices and there are _choices_ , and he knows that if they don't move first, this one will be made for them.

Koumei straightens, and begins to speak.

**Author's Note:**

> time to write singular fics for every single fandom I'm in, I guess! let's see how long it takes me to do this one.
> 
> I'll be experimenting with different lengths and styles so uh this will likely be kind of a mess but whatever. it's my mess and I like these characters too much, someone send help.


End file.
